


Even In the Dark

by Anya509



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Andreil, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Dark Magic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anya509/pseuds/Anya509
Summary: The Wizarding World is overrun and the Dark Lord rules. Yet, hope remains in the form of a ragtag band of witches and wizards, the Order of the Fox. And there is a rumor, a prophecy, of a boy who will bring about the Dark Lord’s destruction. A boy with many names and many faces. A boy who has spent a lifetime running.Finally, he will find a reason to fight back.
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 46
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

Neil threw himself to the ground a split-second before the curse hit. He landed hard on his stomach, gasping as air whooshed from his lungs. Curling half-numb fingers around his wand, he rolled to his back and thrust his arm into the air.

“Confringo!”

Lola deflected the curse with a forceful sweep of her wand and cackled loudly when a nearby tree trunk exploded instead with a loud crack. Shards of bark and wood flew into the air, showering Neil and forcing him to throw up a hasty shield.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Lola spread her arms wide, grinning. “Your aim always has been shit. Still just a scared, little boy aren’t you?”

Gritting his teeth, Neil climbed to his feet. His whole body ached from days spent sleeping in the rough, and he could still feel the remains of the Jelly-Legs Jinx in his shaky legs. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Neil ground out. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was hard when faced with the maniacal gleam in Lola’s eyes.

She took a step closer and laughed again when Neil raised his wand threateningly.

“The Dark Lord has been looking all over for you,” Lola said in a sing-song voice. “Someone’s been a bad, bad boy. Too bad mommy’s not here to save you this time, eh?”

Neil’s wand arm shook. He didn’t want to think about his mother. He especially didn’t want to think about what she’d looked like with her entrails looped around her body like wet, bloody noodles, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he’d walked toward her. They’d left her alive on purpose for him to find. He didn’t think he would ever get the smell of her rotting flesh out of his nostrils. 

“He wants me alive,” Neil said, hating how high his voice sounded. “If you try to take me, I’ll kill myself. I am  _ never  _ going back there.”

Lola’s grin faded slightly. “Such big threats for such a little boy. Do you really think you’re faster than us, Junior?

Neil’s heart gave a lurch. “What - ”

The spell hit him on the back. Invisible ropes wound around his body and he fell to the ground with a sharp cry, breath leaving his lungs for a second time in so many minutes. He strained against the invisible bindings, willing his fingers to reach just a little further. His wand was just out of reach. So close. If he could just - 

A black boot stepped squarely on his wand, pushing it down into the soft earth. Neil’s stomach heaved, sure it would crack, but Lola lifted her foot just in time. His relief was short-lived. She flipped him onto his back and he grunted, eyes streaming as he stared up at the sky and his lungs struggled to regulate his breathing.

“What do you think, love?” Lola greeted her brother, Romero, with a smirk. “Should we peel his skin off in strips before taking him back? Alive doesn’t mean unharmed.”

Romero smiled. “I’m sure the Dark Lord would appreciate a little pre-punishment. Just make sure he’s sane enough to make a proper greeting when we get there.”

Neil started to shake. He blinked rapidly and tried to imagine this was all a bad dream. Maybe he would wake up, back to back with his mother, still on the run. Not entirely safe, but more importantly, not alone.

“Uh uh, none of that, now.” Lola straddled her feet on either side of his chest and sunk down to a crouch, resting some of her weight on his chest. She tapped her wand on his cheek. “I’m going to need you to pay attention.” She stared at him for a moment longer. And then she whispered, “Crucio.”

Neil screamed as pain surged through every cell like electricity. Though he could still not move on his own, his back arched against Lola’s weight and his limbs convulsed. It felt like fire, like being burned from the inside out. Just when he started seeing black spots, Lola ended the spell and he sunk back to the ground with a pathetic sob, drool and tears trickling down his face.

Lola smiled and said, “now you’re paying attention.”

Agony consumed him. Neil lost track of how many times she lifted and recast the curse. Every reprieve felt shorter than the last and by the time she stood up, he could barely see or think straight. 

Her face blurred before him when she crouched again, at his side this time, and traced a finger down his wet cheeks.

“Hmm, what do you think we should do next?” She stuck her finger in her mouth and made an exaggerated noise of pleasure. “Your tears taste delicious, Junior,” she purred.

“P - please…” Neil whispered, voice cracking. “Please don’t… d-don’t do this.”

Lola continued stroking his face, making Neil shudder in revulsion. “You’re important to him, you know.” Her fingers stroked lower before circling his neck and pressing down slightly. “That means you’re important to me too.”

Neil closed his eyes and choked back bile when he felt her tongue lick up his face.

“Just a little taste, I think,” she whispered, breath puffing hot and rancid against his oversensitized skin.

Several things happened at once. 

Romero cried out in pain. Lola shouted in surprise and outrage and leapt to her feet, shooting off several spells in rapid succession, simultaneously blocking those fired at her. 

The Incarcerous spell lifted, allowing Neil to sag bonelessly against the earth. His instincts screamed at him to get up, to move, but he’d barely lifted himself to his elbows before his arms collapsed beneath him. One of Lola’s deflected spells exploded the dirt next to his head and he cursed, halfway between crying and laughing. After all this time on the run, after everything he’d done to survive, he was going to die here, from a stray fucking curse, because he couldn’t make himself move. 

That turned out to be a non-issue, because seconds later something that felt like a giant hook wrapped around his chest and  _ yanked _ . Neil yelped in alarm, his body dragged across several yards of dirt and rocks and grass. Coming to an abrupt halt, he found himself staring up at two strange wizards, one tall and dark and the other short and light. The short wizard held his arm aloft, protecting them from Lola’s attack with a powerful shield charm, while the dark-haired man fired off spell after spell without pausing. He was facing the wrong direction to see, but Neil could hear Lola shouting and cursing angrily. 

“You give him back now!” she screamed, followed by an outraged cry of pain. “He belongs to the Dark Lord!”

“Can we go now?” the short wizard asked. Despite his arm shaking slightly - Neil had no idea how he was maintaining his shield against Lola’s onslaught - he sounded almost bored.

The dark-haired wizard made a noise of frustration. “I’m working on it, Andrew,” he snapped. He shot off another spell and Lola yelled again. “Can you hold her without me for a few seconds?”

Andrew scoffed. “Fuck you.”

“Asshole,” the dark-haired wizard muttered, right before dropping to his knees and placing one hand on Neil’s arm and the other on Andrew’s ankle. He said, “now!”

Neil had never enjoyed Side-Along Apparition, not when young and unable to Apparate himself, and certainly not now, after being chased, tortured, and flung across a field. When they reappeared in a musty room, he promptly rolled to his side and vomited all over the wood floor. 

“Shit!” a new, female voice exclaimed. 

Another said calmly, “Kevin, he threw up on your shoes.”

“If I vomit on him as well,” Andrew responded from nearby, “it’ll only be half intentional.”

Neil gagged a few more times before resting his forehead against the floor and letting his eyes slip shut. Everything hurt. The voices continued talking around him but he could barely pay attention. Darkness beckoned and he didn’t have the strength to fight it. Whoever these people were, they held him completely at their mercy.

“Is this really him?” someone asked.

Someone else commented, “I don’t see his scar.”

A person crouched beside him. With the sensation of Lola sitting on his chest far too fresh in his mind, Neil stiffened in alarm, eyes flying open. The short wizard, Andrew, gazed down, hazel eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. Yet, at the same time, he looked intrigued, and Neil couldn’t help but stare back.

“So it’s true,” Andrew said. “I guess you get to keep the title after all.”

Neil blinked, his mind sluggish. “What?” he croaked.

Andrew cocked his head. “The Boy Who Lived,” he said, and familiar panic surged through Neil’s battered body. “Back from the dead.”

The walls closed in and Neil knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

“He doesn’t look like much, does he? I didn’t think he’d be so scrawny.”

“Seriously, Andrew, Accio? You thought that was the best choice?”

“I don’t believe physical capability has any correlation with magical ability.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“How do you reckon he keeps his hair like that?”

Snippets of conversation penetrated Neil’s awareness and he wanted nothing more than to sink back into the blissful peace of unconsciousness. His bladder ached, nearly as bad as the rest of him, so he relented and opened his eyes. Several faces peered down at him. Neil stiffened immediately in alarm.

“Jesus, guys, back off.” A young woman with curly black hair shooed away the others before smiling down at him. “Hi Neil,” she greeted warmly. “How are you feeling? I’m Dan, by the way.”

Neil swallowed, eyes darting to the three other people in the room. He immediately recognized Andrew, though his mind took a moment to supply the name. He stood furthest away, slouched in the corner with black-clad arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey.” Dan drew his attention back to her. “You’re safe here, okay? No one’s going to hurt you.”

Neil nodded after a moment, even if he didn’t believe her for a second. Moving carefully, he pushed himself into a sitting position, relieved to find much of the residual soreness from the Cruciatus curse had already worn off. That, or they’d used a great number of healing draughts on him while he slept. He didn’t understand why they’d do such a thing for a stranger, though.

“So that’s Nicky,” Dan said, nodding to the other man in the room. “And that’s Renee.” Renee, who sported shoulder-length rainbow-colored hair, smiled. Dan continued, “and of course, you and Andrew have already met. He’s sorry for hurling you across a field like a quaffle.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow, not looking sorry in the slightest.

“When you’re feeling up to it, the others would love to meet you too.” Dan stood up. “You should probably rest a bit longer, but I’ll send someone up with food in a bit.”

Neil blinked, struggling to take everything in. “Others?”

“There’s ten of us, in all,” Nicky spoke up. He sighed, face falling slightly. “A few of us aren’t here right now, though.”

“Eleven,” Renee corrected softly. Despite her light tone, Neil didn’t miss the sudden looks of tension from Dan and Nicky. Only Andrew’s face remained impassive. “There’s eleven of us.”

Dan forced a smile, looking back to Neil. “Anyway, I know it’s a lot. We’ll give you some space, alright?”

Dan, Nicky, and Renee left the room, but Andrew didn’t move from his perch in the corner. Neil eyed him apprehensively.

“What,” Neil said, “are you going to guard me or something? Make sure I don’t leave?”

Andrew stared at him.

Neil frowned at his silence. “I never asked you to bring me here, you know. Wherever ‘here’ is. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Andrew propped a boot on the wall behind him. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you have a Death Eater sitting on your chest.”

Neil scowled. “Whatever. Just let me go, okay? The sooner I go, the better.”

“For you, or for us?” Andrew asked evenly, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t forget, we know who you are.”

Neil’s stomach lurched uncomfortably at the reminder. He forced himself to take a calming breath. “You really don’t. I’m not -” the words stuck in his throat. “I’m not what you think I am. I just need to go.”

Andrew regarded him silently and Neil started to fidget, picking at the frayed edges of the blanket pooled around his waist. 

“Is that your true talent, then?” Andrew said finally. “Running away?”

Neil sighed in annoyance and sunk back down against the pillows. 

Andrew kept going. “Everyone thought you were dead, you know. Was that your plan all along? Run off and play house somewhere while the rest of us fought your war?”

Giving into the bait would be so easy. Neil had never been good at keeping his mouth shut, especially in the face of someone so clearly itching for a fight. He didn’t know these people, however, and seven-to-one odds weren’t exactly in his favor, so for once, he stayed quiet.

It turned out to be a battle of wills. Andrew stopped talking when Neil stopped responding, but he didn’t leave either. Neil, who didn’t let down his guard with another person in the room, let alone sleep, rolled stubbornly to his side and stared at the wall, pinching himself whenever he felt close to drifting off. That turned out to be quite often, given his recent run-in with Lola. After the dozenth or so time of jerking back to awareness, he sighed and sat up. 

“Are you seriously going to keep standing there?” he said. “I don’t even have my wand, in case you forgot.”

Andrew shrugged. “Maybe you shouldn’t have dropped it.”

Neil bit back his retort. “Can you at least tell me where we are?” he asked through clenched teeth. 

“Great Britain.”

Neil glared. “Are you being an asshole on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”

The corner of Andrew’s mouth curled slightly. Otherwise, he didn’t respond. 

Neil had counted to one-thousand in half a dozen languages by the time Renee returned holding a small tray. She smiled, first at Andrew, then at Neil, before setting the tray down on the bedside table. There wasn’t much - just some buttered toast and broth - but Neil hadn’t eaten in over a day and his stomach gave a hungry lurch. He stared at it for a minute, heart beating fast.

“Would it make you feel better if I test it for poisons first?” Renee asked.

Neil jerked his head up in surprise. He expected to find sarcasm, or at the very least, admonishment on her face, but she seemed completely sincere. Swallowing, he jerkily shook his head no. Before he could think better of it, he picked up a piece of toast and took a healthy bite, half expecting his mother’s ghost to materialize and smack him on the head for taking such a stupid risk. If they wanted to poison him, it seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go through. When he didn’t immediately keel over or grow an extra limb, he hungrily grabbed for the second piece and finished it off in three bites. 

“Are you the Boy Who Lived or the Boy Who Starved?” Andrew commented mildly.

Neil’s cheeks flamed and he swallowed his current bite heavily.

Renee sighed. “Andrew, that’s not very kind.” She turned to him and said calmly, “I’ll stay with Neil for awhile. I think Kevin was needing you anyway.”

Andrew’s eyes flickered to Neil, but surprisingly, he nodded and left without another word.

“You’ll have to teach me that trick,” Neil muttered, staring at his food. Suddenly he felt a lot less hungry.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Renee said. “He’s like that with people he doesn’t know.”

Neil shot her a doubtful look.

“Okay,” she amended with a slight smile. “He’s like that with everyone. But his heart’s in the right place. You’ll see.”

Neil exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I can’t stay.”

Renee cocked her head. “Oh. Why not?”

“It’s not safe. For you, or for me,” he added, echoing Andrew’s earlier thoughts. “He’ll never stop looking for me. You have to know that.”

Renee smiled again, but this time there was more than a hint of sadness to it. “None of us have been safe for a very long time, Neil. But at least together we can protect each other. We can fight back.”

“Fighting him is pointless,” Neil insisted. He felt sick just thinking about it. “You have no idea what he’s capable of. You may think you do, but you don’t.”

Her smile faded away, leaving only sadness behind. Neil immediately felt like an asshole, because really, he had no idea what she or anyone else here, had been through. 

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t mean - ”

“It’s alright,” she said softly. “I’m sure you know better than anyone. But please, don’t assume you’re the only one who’s suffered. Because that’s simply not true.”

Neil bit his tongue as she stood up. Glancing down at him, Renee’s expression softened.

“Get some rest,” she said gently. “I’ll come back up and get you for dinner.”

Neil nodded and she left. Finally, he was alone.

***

In retrospect, Neil didn’t know what he expected when he apprehensively followed Renee out of his small bedroom later that day. He certainly didn’t expect to find himself in a cozy, seaside cottage with pastel wallpaper, cozy fireplaces, and a well-tended garden out front. Feeling a bit disoriented, he barely noticed someone else was in the kitchen until they spoke.

“Hey Neil. Feeling better?”

Neil startled, heart leaping to his throat.

“Shit, sorry!” Nicky said, his dark eyes growing wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Um, are you alright?”

Neil nodded quickly. Movement outside drew his attention and he frowned, stepping a foot closer to the window. Further down the beach, he could see flashes of blue and red and white, their sources hidden behind a rocky cliff. His pulse quickened.

“Is this place warded?” he asked quickly without looking away. “Is there a perimeter alarm or repelling spells in place?”

When he didn’t immediately receive an answer, he glanced back at Renee and Nicky, only to find them wearing similar looks of bemusement.

“What?” he asked.

Renee smiled and Neil had to force himself not to scowl in response. “They’re only practicing out there,” she said, nodding toward the beach. “But yes, to answer your questions. We have all of those things in place. And then some.”

“Practicing,” Neil repeated. “Practicing what?”

Her smile widened. “Why don’t I show you?”

The air outside was brisk and salty. Neil breathed in deeply as they made their way down the cliff to the beach. Wherever they were, it was beautiful, and also entirely secluded. He couldn’t see another house in any direction. 

For a brief moment, he thought about Disapparating. It would be a risk, since he didn’t know how powerful their wards were, but it might be his only chance. He took a breath, concentrating deeply, picturing his destination and -

A brilliant flash of red light lit up the sky, just as they stepped onto the beach and the others came into view. Neil’s breath caught in his throat as two spells collided with a loud bang and a huge plume of sand and water exploded skyward in its wake. 

He recognized Andrew, of course, and dimly recognized the dark-haired wizard who’d saved him from Lola and her brother. He had a permanent scowl etched into his face, and a look of intensity in his eyes as he fired spell after spell at Andrew. Most of them, Andrew deflected with ease, his wand movements almost lazy. Neil wasn’t fooled though. He could see a similar intensity in Andrew’s posture and the set of his jaw.

Dan and another, very tall man Neil had yet to meet stood off to the side, arms crossed as they watched and occasionally said something to each other, or sometimes the dark-haired wizard.

“That’s Kevin,” Nicky said, pointing to the wizard dueling with Andrew. “And the guy with the spiky hair is Matt.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Dan and Matt are definitely fucking, so don’t get any ideas.”

Neil barely heard him because he couldn’t take his eyes off the duel. Kevin shot off a Reductor Curse, followed in quick succession by Bombarda and Diffindo. Andrew blocked all three with Protego, the same powerful shield charm he’d used in the field. Kevin’s spells collided with the shield, exploding with a deep boom that rattled Neil’s teeth.

“They’re amazing,” Neil breathed softly.

Nicky threw him a grin. “You don’t have to tell me. I still cry in amazement whenever I see dishes washing themselves, so anything else you all can do basically blows my mind.”

Neil blinked and looked at Nicky in surprise. “Wait. You’re a - ”

“A Muggle?” Nicky chuckled. “Guilty as charged. Andrew and Aaron are my cousins, but no magic genes on my side of the family, unfortunately.”

Neil had no idea who Aaron was, but he’d heard too many names today already. That was probably just one he’d forgotten.

The practice continued for another fifteen minutes or so before Dan called for a break and everyone started the slow trek back up the cliff. Kevin eyed Neil assessingly as he passed, not bothering to introduce himself, and Neil couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d met before. He frowned, watching as he climbed the steps. 

“You coming?” Nicky asked, pausing.

Neil started to nod, then noticed Andrew was the only one still standing on the beach, facing the water with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“In a second,” he said to Nicky, who raised his eyebrows, glancing at Andrew, then Neil. 

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, and started after the others.

Andrew didn’t acknowledge Neil when he stepped up beside him and stared out at the water. Nearing sunset, the sky was swept with oranges, purples, and blues. It looked vast. Endless.

“Time to run?” Andrew exhaled smoke from his nostrils and took another drag.

Neil ignored him. “Where did you learn to fight like that? Hogwarts doesn’t teach that type of magic.”

Andrew side-eyed him. “In case it escaped your notice, there’s been a war happening. The curriculum changed.”

Neil scowled, not sure why he’d expected a straight-forward answer. “Who taught you? And don’t give me some bullshit answer. You know what I’m asking.”

Andrew flicked the remainder of his cigarette onto the ground and kicked sand over it. “David Wymack.”

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Neil stared at Andrew, sure he’d heard wrong. “But he’s… He died. When my - when the Dark Lord came back. I saw it.”

Andrew made a humming noise and turned around, heading toward the stairs. Over his shoulder, he called, “it would be awfully hard to learn from a dead man.”

Something strange and aching took root in Neil’s chest. It was not a familiar sensation, so it took a minute for him to identify it. 

It was hope.

Neil turned, glanced back out at the sea once more, and followed Andrew up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

_ Neil huddled on the damp grass, shaking and clutching at the bloody, ragged mess that had once been his right arm. Words couldn’t describe the complexity of what he was feeling, but terror seemed close enough. That, combined with shock, despair, and most of all, resignation.  _

_ The newly risen Dark Lord had his back to Neil, skin bone-white and more reminiscent of a skeleton than a human being. Vertebrae jutted sharp and vivid down his spine, and his head, unnaturally smooth and hairless, resembled that of a snake, the likeness growing even more sharp as he swiveled around and fixed blood-red eyes on Neil.  _

_ Neil trembled as the Dark Lord stepped slowly toward him, bare feet barely peeking out from beneath the hem of his black robes. He was too frightened to move, though his body screamed at him to get up! move! run! Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jean’s face, dead and sightless, staring up into the stormy sky. He wanted to puke, wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the creature standing over him. _

_ “Neil Josten,” the Dark Lord said in a low, whispery voice. “The Boy Who Lived.” He smiled, slitted nostrils flaring. _

_ Neil shook harder. _

_ “How lies have fed your story,” the Dark Lord continued. “How do you think they would feel, all those witches and wizards who felt… inspired by your tale. Do you think they would still celebrate you, still… love you, if they knew what you really were?” _

_ “I didn’t ask for any of that,” Neil whispered. “I didn’t want it… I still don’t. Please…” _

_ The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes with displeasure and Neil’s gut roiled with nausea.  _

_ “Pathetic,” he said, idly fingering his wand. “Begging is beneath you. Or it should be. Clearly my lieutenants have not done their jobs as well as they were meant to.” _

_ Standing off to the side, Lola lowered her head in consternation.  _

_ “No matter,” the Dark Lord continued, smiling again. “You’ve served your purpose. Brought me back from the half-life you condemned me to.” _

_ He crouched down. _

_ “I couldn’t touch you then,” he said, and Neil thought he would shake apart as a spider-like finger descended toward his forehead. “But I can touch you now.” _

_ Pain immediately consumed him. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced. It was worse than the Cruciatus, worse than physical torture. It was all-encompassing. He was going to die - _

Neil shot up in bed with a strangled scream, lashing out with his fists. Someone grunted as his fist met flesh.

“No!” He scrambled backward against the wall, breathing rapidly. “No, stop!”

The lights flared to life. Neil had to blink rapidly to clear his vision. When he could finally see, he realized he was in the bedroom at the cottage - not the graveyard - and it was Andrew standing several feet away, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. Not a Death Eater. Not the Dark Lord.

“Fuck,” he cursed quietly, dropping his head into his hands and groaning. “Fuck, why did you wake me like that?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Andrew said. A strange look passed over his face. “And you were screaming.”

Neil exhaled shakily. “Not a nightmare,” he muttered, looking away. “Sorry.” 

Andrew didn’t respond immediately, prompting Neil to glance up. Andrew had clearly been sleeping, given his long, green sleep-shirt and mussed hair. His legs and feet were bare, toes probably frozen against the wooden floors in the middle of the night. In the two weeks Neil had spent at the cottage so far, he’d seen Andrew in nothing but long-sleeved black attire and combat boots. It was disconcerting, so say the least, seeing him in a state that made him appear almost vulnerable. 

“Did I wake the others?” Neil asked hesitantly, half expecting the lot of them to come piling in at once. 

“Maybe.” Andrew shrugged. “They’ll get over it. Besides,” he added, turning to go, “it’s nothing they’re not used to.”

With that cryptic statement, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Neil stared for a moment, feeling an inexplicable urge to follow him but ultimately deciding against it. With a heavy sigh, he sunk back down in the bed and pulled the covers over his head.

***

“You need a wand,” Kevin announced the next morning over breakfast. He cast a critical look at Neil, who paused awkwardly with a cup of tea halfway to his mouth. “You know as much about the Dark Arts as I do, so I need you to be able to duel with me.”

Dan’s spoon clattered against her bowl and Nicky made a sputtering sound as he swallowed his orange juice wrong.

Neil stared at Kevin. “What makes you think I know anything about the Dark Arts?”

Kevin snorted. “Oh please, you told us you were on the run with your mother for eight years, and the Hatfords are a famous Dark Wizard family. There’s no way she didn’t teach you everything she knew.”

Neil continued staring at him, heart beating fast. In truth, he’d learned much of what he knew long before they’d gone on the run, but he wasn’t ready to share that information just yet. He’d probably never be ready.

“Why would you want to duel with me?” Neil asked. “You seem to be doing fine practicing against Andrew.”

Across from Neil, Andrew took a bite of english muffin, seemingly disinterested in the current conversation.

Kevin waved a hand impatiently. “Andrew’s the best here at defensive magic, not offensive. I need someone on par with me.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kevin,” Dan said dryly.

Matt added under his breath, “confidence isn’t what Kevin’s lacking in.”

“Well?” Kevin pressed, ignoring the others.

“I doubt I’m better than anyone else here,” Neil continued to hedge. “Besides, I didn’t even go to school.”

Several pairs of eyes immediately swiveled to him. 

Neil fidgeted uncomfortably. “What?”

“Never?” Dan asked, eyes wide. “Your mum never sent you to any type of school? Even as a child?”

“Yeah, how come you didn’t come to Hogwarts as a first-year?” Nicky asked. “Because you were twelve when… well, you know.” He grimaced, dropping his eyes.

“Wait, you weren’t at Hogwarts?” Matt blinked in surprise. “I swear I heard your name mentioned at the Sorting Ceremony when I was a third-year.”

Dan opened her mouth to speak again, but then Andrew said, “Your wand might still be where the Death Eaters tortured you. We should look there first.”

Everyone stopped talking and Neil felt a wave of relief. So far, he’d done a fair job of answering their questions with vague half-truths, or else avoiding them altogether. It was much harder to talk his way out of something when all of them were asking at the same time.

“You don’t think they would’ve taken it?” Renee asked quietly, shooting a worried look at Andrew. “That seems unnecessarily risky, going back to that place.”

“Doesn’t hurt to check,” Andrew replied with a small shrug. He took another bite of his muffin, eyes flicking to Neil. “What do you think?”

Part of Neil wanted to agree with Renee; going back to that field on the small chance he’d find his wand was a definite risk. On the other hand, the idea of getting  _ his  _ wand back, and not just some random wand from a trader, practically had him salivating. These past weeks it had felt like he was missing a limb. 

“I want to check,” he said. Renee pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. “You’re right though, it might be dangerous. I should go on my own.”

After a brief, shocked silence, the table erupted in a mixture of furious denials and indignation. Eventually, and without Neil’s input, they reached a decision that four of them would go. Neil, of course, Andrew, Renee (who Kevin informed him was second-best at defensive spells), and Kevin.

“We’ll Apparate there together,” Kevin repeated later that afternoon as they prepared to go. “And no matter what, we stay together. Separating us is the easiest way for them to pick us off one by one.”

Renee nodded while Andrew simply raised an eyebrow, looking bored. When Neil didn’t respond, Kevin turned an expectant eye on him.

“Well?” he said.

Neil hesitated for a moment. “Staying together makes it easier for them to take us down all at once though, doesn’t it?

Kevin blinked, then scowled. “What?”

“Many of them are trained in group-level spells,” Neil explained, feeling awkward. It felt strange to be talking about this kind of stuff to virtual strangers. “Or curses that only have to hit one person in order to affect everyone else in their immediate vicinity. Staying in two groups is a better idea.”

“Yeah, I know very well what they’re trained in,” Kevin said impatiently. “Seeing as I used to help teach it. And I’m still telling you we should stay together.”

“Do you want to get us killed, or are you just an idiot?” Neil snapped, losing his cool. 

He and Kevin glared at each other until Renee cleared her throat. 

“Neil has a point,” she said, earning her an irritated look from Kevin. “Let’s Apparate in together, and you and I will keep watch while Andrew helps Neil search for his wand. Alright?”

“Fine,” Kevin said shortly. “Let’s go.”

Neil clutched the spare wand from the cottage that Dan had given him several days ago. No one knew who it had belonged to, but it didn’t feel particularly friendly, so he’d made a point of using it only when strictly necessary. He hoped it wasn’t about to face its owner, because that could go bad very fast.

They appeared in the field with a pop and all four of them raised their wands immediately. They’d formed themselves into a circle, back to back before Apparating, just in case. The field was empty. Soggy and grey, just as it had been before, only now with scorched patches of earth from their brief but fierce battle two weeks prior. Neil swallowed nervously, still trying to settle his stomach.

“Hurry up,” Kevin said.

Kevin and Renee continued sweeping their gazes over the area while Neil followed Andrew toward the tree-line, neither of them lowering their wands as they walked.

“Accio,” Neil whispered, envisioning his wand flying easily into his waiting palm. Nothing happened, of course. The strange wand gave a slight shiver before returning to stillness. 

“That’s where they had you,” Andrew said, coming to a halt next to a patch of flattened grass. 

Neil could almost see the imprint of where he’d laid writhing and screaming on the ground, and he had to shove away the panic that threatened to eat its way up his chest. He knelt down, flattening a palm on the damp earth. After breathing deeply for a moment, a wave of disappointment swept over him. He couldn’t feel his wand. They must’ve taken it.

“It’s not here,” he said, quickly standing up. “We should go.”

Andrew frowned. “Are you - ”

“Andrew! Neil!”

Both of their heads shot up just in time to see masked figures materializing several yards away. 

“Go!” Andrew shouted to Renee and Kevin. They Disapparated with a pop. Andrew grabbed Neil’s shirt, yanking him closer. He raised his wand and - 

Nothing happened. 

Neil deflected a curse just in time, yelping in alarm when his wand barely threw it a foot away.

“Get us the fuck out of here!” he yelled, throwing a wild look to Andrew, because he didn’t dare Apparate with an unknown wand. 

Andrew deflected a curse of his own, with far better results, before calmly saying, “I can’t.”

“What the fuck do you mean, you can’t?” Neil snapped as the two of them were forced back several steps by the advancing figures. There were three of them, none recognizable behind their masks. 

“There’s an Anti-Apparition Charm,” Andrew snapped back. “I don’t know how far it extends.”

“Fuck!” Neil’s heart slammed against his ribs. “We’ve gotta get out of here.” Raising his wand, he yelled, “Expulso!”

The force of the curse threw Neil backwards into Andrew. They collided with a grunt, both of them toppling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Dazed, Neil glanced up.

“They’re down,” he said in half-wonderment. They certainly weren’t dead though, so he scrambled up. “Andrew, they’re down! Let’s go!”

They ran. It didn’t matter which direction they went, only that they got far enough to escape the Anti-Apparition boundaries. After a few minutes, Andrew grabbed Neil’s hand and then shook his head with a furious scowl.

“Not yet,” he huffed, breath puffing white around his face as they ran. 

“Can’t be much further,” Neil said, gasping for air. “They can’t have - ”

A curse glanced off Neil’s shoulder and he stumbled, losing his footing and hitting the ground with a heavy grunt, accidentally pulling Andrew down with him for a second time. He could hear voices and branches snapping as their pursuers got closer. 

Not again, he thought desperately. Fuck, not again!

He grabbed wildly for Andrew, felt clothed flesh beneath his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, straining. He could do it. He could - 

The squeeze of Apparition stole the breath from Neil’s lungs, suspending everything, even thought, for an endless moment, and then they reappeared elsewhere. Neil gasped, pushing immediately to his hands and knees and looking around. They were in an alleyway - in London? - and he could hear the buzz of traffic and people nearby. 

“I think we lost them,” Neil breathed. He hung his head for a few seconds, catching his breath. 

“Still have a slight problem though,” Andrew said in a tight voice.

Neil frowned and turned toward Andrew. “What - ?” His breath caught in his throat. 

Curled in on himself, Andrew had his left hand cradled to his chest, blood already soaking the front of his shirt. 

“Oh fuck,” Neil swallowed, scooting closer. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I thought we were clear.”

Andrew closed his eyes, breathing heavily. “Better than the alternative, I suppose.”

That didn’t make Neil feel any better, especially not when he finally caught sight of the wound. It was as if someone had taken a large spoon and simply scooped out a mound of flesh from Andrew’s palm. He’d been Splinched. 

“Take my wand,” Andrew said through gritted teeth. He opened his eyes long enough to glare at Neil. “Because yours fucking sucks.”

And then he passed out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading! Please leave comments, if you're feeling so inclined! :D
> 
> P.S. Sorry about Jean!


	4. Chapter 4

Neil barely managed to catch Andrew before his head thunked into the pavement. He lowered him down, quickly scanning his body to make sure there weren’t any additional injuries; he breathed a sigh of relief when he found none. 

“Don’t bitch at me later for using your wand when you’re the one who told me to,” Neil said under his breath as he pulled it from Andrew’s slack fingers. 

He didn’t know where they were exactly, but he knew drawing unwanted attention from Muggles could get them in trouble fast. Working quickly, he cast several spells to divert attention and hide them, and another to trigger an alarm should anyone appear to be getting closer than the entrance to the alleyway he’d somehow managed to Apparate them into. Back in the forest, he’d pictured the first place that came to mind - he just wasn’t sure why it was here.

Andrew stirred slightly, grimacing when Neil carefully turned over his injured hand to examine it. He swallowed back sudden nausea. Despite how many times in his life he’d been injured, or how many bloody wounds he’d cleaned and healed and stitched (because when Neil was underage, his mother had forbade the use of magic while they were on the run), the sight of blood still made him sick to his stomach.

Andrew’s hand continued to gush blood. A large chunk of his lower palm was missing - scooped out and precariously close to the large veins in his wrist - taking flesh, tiny bones, and blood vessels with it. Still, it wasn’t life threatening as long as Neil could stop the bleeding.

“Vulnera Sanentur,” he murmured, holding the tip of Andrew’s wand close to the wound. Despite the chill in the air, sweat dripped down Neil’s brow as he worked. “Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur.”

Neil released a breath of relief as the flow of blood seemed to ease and then, with each repetition, the wound slowly started to knit itself back together. It would need a dittany to heal completely, but at least Andrew was no longer in danger of bleeding out. 

Neil cast a warming charm and, finally, a numbing spell that he applied to Andrew’s entire arm. He knew from experience that until the wound was finished healing, he definitely would not want to feel it.

“Rennervate,” Neil said, sitting back on his heels and swiping the back of his hand across his brow.

Andrew took a sudden breath and opened his eyes. He blinked dazedly up at the sky.

“Andrew,” Neil said.

Jerking slightly, Andrew’s gaze darted to him. Almost immediately, he tried to sit up, ending up flopped back to his side when his arm refused to cooperate. He spent a moment staring at his injured hand before looking back at Neil. 

“Why can’t I feel my arm?” he asked.

“Numbing spell,” Neil explained. “Trust me, you don’t want to take it off yet.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly. Without comment, he rolled to his other side and slowly pushed his way into a sitting position. He swayed slightly, throwing Neil a glare when he reached forward to steady him. Neil snorted and sat back.

“Do you think you can Apparate us back to the cottage?” Neil asked because, unfortunately, he couldn’t do it himself since the cottage was under the Fidelius Charm and he’d yet to meet their Secret Keeper.

Andrew hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Not yet.”

Figuring as much, Neil accepted that without question. Pushing himself to his feet, he looked around, examining their surroundings fully for the first time. Not London, he realized, after recognizing some of the structures looming overhead. They were in Manchester, and he finally realized why he’d brought them there. His stomach clenched slightly at the idea of visiting a familiar place, but they didn’t have many options at the moment.

“I know somewhere safe where we can hunker down for the night,” Neil said, nodding toward the city. “Or until you’re strong enough to take us back.”

Andrew shot him a skeptical look. “Didn’t you get caught recently? That tells me your hiding places leave something to be desired.”

Neil rolled his eyes. “That’s not how they caught me. Besides, it’s not like you have a choice. Come on.” 

He reached for Andrew, not trusting he’d be able to walk unassisted at the moment, but backed off with another eye-roll when Andrew shoved his hand away.

“Fine,” Neil said shortly. ‘Be an idiot. What do I care.”

Without responding, Andrew slowly, and very awkwardly, climbed to his feet. He swayed dangerously, reaching out to steady himself against the brick wall while his numb arm hung uselessly at his side. After a moment, he tried to right himself and nearly lost his footing completely. 

Neil waited with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine,” Andrew said, scowling. “Only until we get to your secret hidey-hole.”

Neil snorted. He heaved Andrew’s good arm over his shoulder. “As if I’d want to touch you for longer than that.”

Andrew didn’t respond, but the tension radiating from him said enough. When Neil wrapped his arm around Andrew’s waist, Andrew went taut as a bow and his breathing became short and choppy. Neil didn’t comment though, feeling equally uncomfortable. He had good reasons for not liking people in close proximity to him, reasons he spent most days trying his best not to think about. He certainly wouldn’t demand answers from Andrew if he didn’t want to offer them.

They made their way slowly through the crowded afternoon streets of Manchester. They were in a primarily Muggle part of town luckily, so Neil’s charms kept them safe as they walked. Anytime someone came within close proximity or started to look at them, their attention simply slipped away and they carried on, not remembering they’d seen anyone of note at all.

“This is it,” Neil said, some time later. He nodded at the building across the street.

Andrew, who’d grown increasingly pale, stared at the building for a moment before fixing Neil with an unimpressed look.

“Your secret hidey-hole is a Muggle hostel?” he said, slightly out of breath. 

Neil shrugged. “I never said it was secret. I said it was safe.”

Getting a room was easy. Neil didn’t know the woman with heavy black eyeliner and multiple piercings at the front desk, but he did know what code-words to mention and what names to use to ensure they received a private, anonymous room that would never make its way into their records.

After shutting and locking the door behind them, Neil lowered Andrew to one of the two twin beds and proceeded to put up all the usual wards and alarms not only around their room, but also the hostel as a whole. Finally finished, he breathed a sigh of relief and slumped down onto his own bed.

“One great thing about Death Eaters,” Neil said, staring up at the chipped, slightly moldy ceiling, “is they completely underestimate Muggles. It doesn’t even cross their minds that places like this exist.”

“I’m not sure places like this should exist,” Andrew said mildly. “It feels very pay-by-the-hour.”

Neil huffed out a laugh. “Well, I’m not saying it isn’t. But the owner is a Squib. There’s no magic here, obviously, but she shelters witches and wizards on the run. Mainly women and children.”

“Which is how you know about it,” Andrew said, after a pause.

A bolt of familiar anxiety shot through Neil. He squirmed uncomfortably before finally saying, “yeah.”

Both of them were silent for a while. Neil’s stomach growled, reminding him neither of them had eaten anything since breakfast, so he sat up. Andrew hadn’t moved, one arm still thrown over his eyes while the injured one lay bloody and limp by his side.

“How’s your hand?” Neil asked, not sure if he was awake.

“Still numb,” Andrew replied scornfully. Despite that, he sounded exhausted.

“You need a blood-replenishing potion,” Neil said, chewing on his lip. “And a dittany to finish healing the wound. Probably a potion to prevent infection, for good measure.”

Andrew sighed. Finally uncovering his face, he looked around the room, eyes darting from place to place. “I don’t suppose they stocked any of those things in the mini-bar.”

“The closest thing to magic you’ll find here is the Disney channel,” Neil replied. “You’d be amazed at what Muggles can do without it though.”

Andrew snorted softly. “I really wouldn’t.”

Neil bristled. “Let me guess, you’re one of those wizards who’s never even brushed their own teeth without magic, right? I was always told they were backwards too, but you have to know it’s all a load of bullshit.”

This time, Andrew was the one to roll his eyes.

“Seeing as I’m Muggle-born,” Andrew said, fixing Neil with a bored look, “I’m pretty sure I win the ‘who knows more about Muggles’ game.”

Neil blinked. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Andrew mimicked. He threw his arm back over his eyes. “If you’re going out, get us a phone. And some whiskey.”

Neil scowled. “First of all, no. And why would you need a phone?”

“To bash myself over the head before you ask any more stupid questions.”

“Seriously, why do you want a phone?” Neil stubbornly crossed his arms. He could find a healing potion easily enough, but he’d have to make at least one extra stop to fulfill Andrew’s requests.

Andrew gave a long-suffering sigh. “To call Nicky, obviously.”

“Nicky has a phone?” Neil asked, surprised. As a Muggle, he obviously couldn’t communicate by magical means, but carrying around a piece of traceable technology still seemed like a risk. Neil had gone through his fair share of burner phones in his life, and he’d never kept one for more than a few days at a time. The people looking for him didn’t understand everything about the Muggle world, but they also weren’t stupid.

“Are we seriously going to play twenty questions right now?” Andrew dropped his arm across his stomach and fixed Neil with a tired glare. “Yes, Nicky has a phone. No, it can’t be traced. And yes, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pass out now.”

***

Neil returned less than an hour later, bags filled with potions, food, and a cheap mobile phone swinging from his arms. He also had a small bottle of whiskey tucked inside his jacket.

Andrew peeked open his eyes. He didn’t say anything, simply watching with an inscrutable expression while Neil checked the wards twice over.

“Here,” Neil said, setting out bottles of quick-brew potions he’d found at a nearby apothecary. “They’re not very potent, but it should help.”

Without commenting, Andrew slowly levered himself into a sitting position. He swung his feet off the side of the bed, jaw clenched, and painstakingly pulled his injured hand into his lap with a quiet grunt. Clearly the numbing spell had started to wear off. He reached out an expectant hand to Neil.

“It would be easier if I do it,” Neil said.

Rather than arguing, Andrew simply scooted back so he could lean against the wall and closed his eyes. 

Neil took his time carefully combining the potion ingredients. Quick-brew potions were charmed to heat and stir inside the bottles themselves, but they could still be messed up if you accidentally added the wrong items together.

Andrew took the finished potion from Neil without comment. After examining it for a moment, he shrugged and downed it in one go, grimacing slightly at the taste and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He held out his hand for the next one and repeated the process.

Neil discarded the bottles, then tossed the phone, a packaged deli-sandwich, and the bottle of whiskey on Andrew’s bed. Andrew glanced from the whiskey to Neil and raised an eyebrow.

“They had some in the corner shop,” Neil muttered. “Figured you’d need it to wash down the potions.”

“Not the food?” Andrew poked at the sandwich like it might grow legs and walk away. In the end, he shoved it aside and took an impressive swig of whiskey before leaning back against the wall and tearing into the phone. Neil watched him punch buttons for a few minutes, probably going through the setup process, and finally he pressed it to his ear.

“It’s me,” he said, presumably to Nicky, lifting it away briefly while the noise on the other end grew loud enough for Neil to hear. “We’re fine,” he continued. “Well, mostly.” Neil heard raised voices again, but Andrew ignored them. He said, “we’ll be back in time for a night cap,” and then hung up without another word.

“That seemed to go well,” Neil said dryly.

“They know we’re not dead or being entertained by Death Eaters,” Andrew replied. He screwed off the cap from the whiskey bottle again and idly swirled it around. “No stupid Gryffindor antics will be had. Not tonight, at least.” He took another sip.

Neil picked at his own sandwich, not sure what to say to that. He watched as a piece of rubbery meat slid out the side, followed by something resembling a tomato. Grimacing, he set it back down.

He knew of the four Hogwarts houses, of course - it was virtually impossible to grow up in Britain and not know them - but seeing as he’d never set foot in the school himself, he did not, and would never, belong to one.

“Were all of you in the same house, then?” Neil asked.

Andrew looked terribly amused by that. “You think I’m a Gryffindor? You think  _ Kevin  _ is?”

“How would I know?” Neil said, shrugging defensively. “How else would you all know each other?”

“Oh, that is a story for another time.” Andrew leaned his head back as a flash of pain crossed his face. “Maybe it’s your turn to answer some questions now, instead of always asking them.”

Neil tensed up. “You can ask. It doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

Andrew studied him, cocking his head slightly. “Not answering makes you more suspicious. You have a lot of pieces that don’t add up, Neil.”

Neil scowled. “I’m not a math problem.”

“I’ll still solve you.”

It sounded like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so much fun writing this! Harry Potter was the first fanfiction I ever read or wrote, and it's been a looooong time since then. So fun revisiting it through the eyes of Neil, Andrew, and the Foxes!


	5. Chapter 5

Neil jolted awake to the sound of bells. He laid completely still, barely breathing, heart galloping in his chest. There was someone outside screaming.

Clutching the wand he always kept underneath his pillow, he sat up, careful not to make a sound. Andrew was already awake and standing to the side of the window, his own wand poised and ready by his side. He spared a glance for Neil before returning his attention to the streets.

“What do you see?” Neil asked in a low voice, joining him.

Andrew kept staring, eyes sweeping back and forth over the dark exterior. Even squinting, Neil could barely make out anything. The streetlamps had been extinguished, which didn’t make much sense, but even odder was the lack of light coming from doorways and windows, and all the cars seemed to have simply stopped, dead and quiet in the streets. It was as if someone had simply flipped a switch and turned everything off.

“Where are all the lights?” he murmured. 

“We should go,” Andrew said, still gazing into the darkness. “Unless you want to test the limits of your wards.”

“My wards are fine. What’s out there?”

“Fear.”

Neil felt a flutter of irritation even as his pulse kicked “What - ”

A chill swept through the air and Neil shuddered instinctively. Dread coiled in his belly and suddenly he understood what was happening.

“Fucking Dementors,” Neil said with passion. He clutched his wand more tightly. He couldn’t see them yet, but he could feel them, their cold, dead presence that extinguished everything else in their vicinity. “If I drop the wards, can you get us out?”

Andrew didn’t answer immediately and Neil shivered as another chill swept through him, sinking down into his very bones. Anxiety tickled at his senses and he took a deep breath, concentrating hard to keep the fear and bad memories at bay. It wasn’t easy, but luckily (if one could call it luck) he’d had a lot of practice.

“Andrew,” he tried again, teeth clenched tightly. “Can you Apparate or not?”

Andrew still didn’t answer, prompting Neil to step closer and light the tip of his wand with a whispered, “Lumos.” 

Andrew’s face was bone-white and utterly blank. Despite the lack of expression, Neil could see his pulse pounding in his neck.

“Shit.” Knowing this wouldn’t go well but having little choice, Neil grabbed Andrew’s shoulders and gave him a hard shake. “Andrew!” he hissed.

Andrew came back to himself violently, swinging out an elbow that caught Neil squarely in the solar plexus. Neil grunted and staggered back a step, wheezing. Andrew stared at him. He was aware but still blank-faced.

“I’m dropping the wards,” Neil gasped. “Get us the fuck out of here!”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “What are you waiting for?” 

With a furious scowl, Neil raised his wand. “On three. One… two…” He grabbed Andrew’s forearm. “Three!”

The wards released and in the half second it took them to Disapparate, a wave of cold despair and utter misery swept over Neil. In that half-second, he saw his father’s furious face, felt the hot iron smacked against his chest and smelled the stench of his own charred flesh peeling away from his body. And then, just like that, it was over.

Neil dropped to his hands and knees on solid ground, fighting not to be sick, while Andrew staggered away with a muttered curse. 

It didn’t take long before multiple sets of feet pounded down the stairs, followed by loud excited voices as Nicky, Dan, and Kevin all barrelled into the room at once.

“Oh thank god,” Dan exclaimed, immediately coming to Neil’s side while Nicky hovered worriedly by Andrew’s. Kevin glanced between the two of them with furrowed brows. “Are you two all right?”

“Jesus Christ, Andrew!” Nicky yelped in alarm. He grabbed for Andrew’s hand but pulled back at the last second when Andrew shot him a murderous glare. “What the fuck happened to your hand? You motherfucker, you said you were alright!”

“I said mostly,” Andrew retorted, lacking in his usual venom. 

“Neil, are you hurt?” Dan helped him stand. “What the hell happened out there?”

Neil shook his head. He still felt a little woozy, but he was used to shaking things off quickly.

“I’m fine,” he replied. He nodded at Andrew. “Give him some chocolate.”

Dan frowned in confusion, but Kevin inhaled sharply, snapping his head around to look at Neil.

“Dementors found you?” he asked, almost accusingly. “Did you cast a Patronus?”

“I ran,” Neil replied. He didn’t understand the accusation in Kevin’s voice. “I’m not stupid enough to fight them off on my own.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes. “But you can cast one, can’t you? How? Who taught you?”

“Back off, Kevin,” Dan warned. “They just got back.”

Ignoring her, Kevin took a step closer, crowding Neil. “Your mother taught that to you? That’s an odd thing for a Dark wizard to learn.”

“If I’m a Dark wizard, what exactly does that make you?” Neil retorted. 

Kevin’s cheeks flushed with anger. “Say that again. I fucking dare you!”

“Boys!” Dan said shrilly, stepping between them and glaring from one to the other. “Seriously, we’re all on the same side here.”

Neil crossed his arms. To Kevin, he said, “are we?”

Kevin raised his wand threateningly, but then Andrew snorted and walked between them like they weren’t about to throw hexes at one another. He continued up the stairs without stopping. Kevin gave Neil another sour look before following him up.

“That wasn’t uncomfortable at all,” Nicky joked weakly. He looked Neil over quickly, and not finding any cause for concern, gave a small smile. “Thank you.” He nodded toward the stairs. “For keeping him safe. Self-preservation isn’t exactly in his nature.”

Neil wasn’t sure he agreed, but he nodded anyway. 

After another few rounds of reassurances, he finally made it into his upstairs room and locked the door behind him. He exhaled slowly, letting his head fall back against the wood and closing his eyes. He had plenty of experience with close calls, and the scars to prove it; they just usually didn’t fall so close together. Something he definitely didn’t have experience with was people caring. Not about him, and certainly not about his well-being. His mother had cared about him in her own way, even if her brand of caring came with callous words and rough hands yanking him along. But to her, injuries had been an inconvenience, something that slowed them down. As long as Neil was able to keep going, that was really all that mattered.

Someone knocked on the door a little while later. Biting back his annoyance, Neil called “come in,” and then bolted to his feet when a strange woman walked in, followed by Renee.

“Neil, this is Professor Winfield,” Renee said, smiling fondly at the middle-aged witch. “She arrived shortly after you and Andrew and would like to check you over, if that’s alright.”

Neil stared between them for a moment. “What for?”

“Because I’m a medi-witch. And please, call me Abby. Seeing as I was never your professor, Neil, that would be a bit strange for you to say.”

Clamping down on his alarm, Neil quickly shook his head. “How many times do I have to say I’m fine? Andrew got injured, not me.”

“And you did an admirable job treating his injury,” Abby said. “Be that as it may, I understand that you’ve also had run-ins with both Death Eaters and Dementors. I’d really like to make sure there are no lingering effects.”

Neil shook his head again. “I know how to take care of myself.”

Abby’s expression softened. “I don’t doubt that. You don’t have to do it alone though. Not anymore.”

Neil fidgeted, wanting nothing more than to run away. “I haven’t had any issues. If I do, I’ll tell you, alright? You can’t force me to have an examination.”

Abby blinked. “Of course I won’t force you.” She frowned slightly. “Neil, if there’s something - ”

“No,” Neil interrupted. “I’m done having this conversation.”

Without waiting for a response, he scooted between them and fled the room, leaving a baffled-looking Renee and Abby in his wake.

He didn’t know where he was going until he ended up on the beach. He spent a good while staring out at the waves, concentrating on the almost violent push and pull of the tide. Little by little, his anxiety dissipated, though it didn’t make him any more inclined to let Abby give him an exam. He’d sooner stick his hand in a blender than let a stranger know about everything that had been done to him.

When he went back inside, he found Renee waiting for him on the porch, a cup of steaming tea cradled between her gloved fingers. She smiled at him as he approached.

“You’re not going to change my mind,” Neil said, in lieu of greeting. 

“I didn’t intend to,” Renee said mildly. “You should spend some time with Pro - with Abby, though. She knows Coach Wymack very well.”

Neil frowned, though a pulse of excitement went through him at the same time. Ever since Andrew’s cryptic remark about Wymack several days earlier, he hadn’t gotten any additional information from him. He suspected (knew) Andrew was being purposefully frustrating. He could try asking the others, but that would mean he’d have to spend more time engaging with them. 

“Why do you call him Coach? He was a professor, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, yes,” Renee said, nodding. “But he doesn’t like being called that. He said it makes him feel old. And he did coach school Quidditch, so it makes sense.”

Neil hesitated before asking, “if he’s still alive, then why isn’t he here?”

Renee studied him for a moment. “Well, because he’s searching for a way to destroy  _ him _ , of course.”

Neil flinched and dropped his eyes. “Right.” He started up the stairs.

“Andrew’s looking for you, by the way,” Renee called after him. Neil paused. “He and Kevin share the bedroom on the third floor.”

“Okay,” Neil said.

As promised, he found Andrew in the third-floor bedroom. Kevin left as soon as he arrived, shooting him a dark look before stomping noisily down the stairs. Rather than sitting in bed, as Neil suspected Andrew had been ordered to, he’d shoved a desk underneath the single window in the room and sat on top of it now. His legs were pulled to his chest, arms propped on his raised knees. When Neil came in, he flicked him a glance, then turned slightly to exhale smoke out the open window.

Neil shivered, propping himself against the wall to face Andrew. He realized the screen was also missing, which meant nothing but air stood between Andrew and a three-story fall.

“Nicky said you have a shitty sense of self-preservation,” Neil commented, crossing his arms. “Apparently he was right.”

Andrew flexed his injured hand, which now looked completely healed, save for the shiny pink of newly grown skin.

“Like Nicky had any room to talk,” Andrew said. “He’s a Muggle in the middle of a Wizarding war.”

Neil couldn’t argue with that. “Why is he even here? Couldn’t you just make him forget everything and go back to living his normal life?”

Andrew stilled. “I’m not a fan of mind control.”

Neil scoffed. “It’s not mind control. Obliviate is just a spell.”

“Which would erase all the freewill he’s exerted by choosing to be here.” Andrew flexed his hand again. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like other people making my choices for me.”

He had a point, but it wasn’t in Neil’s nature to concede easily.

“You’d rather let him make a choice that gets him killed?” he asked. 

“Freewill, Neil,” Andrew said, tapping the side of his head. “Think about what it means and try again tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” Neil muttered. “Renee said you were looking for me. Why?”

Andrew spent a drawn-out moment sucking on his cigarette and dropping ash out the open window before finally answering. “To see if you’d run yet.”

Neil froze. “I never said I was going to run.”

“Says the rabbit.” Andrew exhaled smoke in Neil’s direction, which he batted away.

“You know, I’m sick of you giving me shit about running,” Neil said, trying and failing to keep the irritation from leaking into his voice. “I had good reason to - I  _ have  _ good reason to - and yet here I am, rescuing you and saving your goddamn life, and all the thanks I get is you prying into my business over and over again. Knock it the fuck off already.”

Andrew cocked his head and curled his mouth into a slight smile.

“Oh,” he said. “There you are. You might just be interesting after all.”

Neil huffed in annoyance. “What?”

“The others have a bet, you know,” Andrew said, ignoring the question. “About what house you’d be in. Matt and Dan are positive you’re a Gryffindor like them, of course.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Nicky, in his uneducated opinion, thinks you must be a Hufflepuff because you’re the savior of the Wizarding world, or whatever.”

“Right.” Neil snorted softly. “And what do you think?”

Andrew’s smile sharpened. “I think green and silver are your colors, Neil.”

A part of Neil wanted to argue with that, because his father had also been in Slytherin, the house that had produced more Dark witches and wizards over the ages than any other. And yet, they hadn’t all been Dark. Neil knew that better than anyone, and he also couldn’t argue with Andrew’s assessment of his nature.

“Probably,” Neil agreed, satisfied to see the brief flash of surprise cross Andrew’s face. “Would that make us house-mates, then?”

“And Kevin,” Andrew added. 

Neil pursed his lips. “Fantastic.”

Andrew dropped his hand out the window again, leaning precariously close to the edge. “Welcome to the house of monsters, Neil. You’ll fit right in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slytherin pride, yo!
> 
> Also, thank you for reading! All your kudos and comments are always very much appreciated! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update! Hope you enjoy!

**_THE BOY WHO VANISHED - IS THERE STILL HOPE?_ **

_ By Reginald Spoonworthy, Staff Writer, Daily Prophet Sunday Edition _

_ Eight years ago to the day, Neil Josten, the boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he was just an infant, vanished without a trace. Years later, we’re all wondering, is there a chance he’s still alive? _

_ Many of you may remember that Neil and his mother, Mary, lived a life of seclusion following You-Know-Who’s defeat where Neil’s heroic father, the late Stuart Hatford, perished in the fight.  _

_ “I just want Neil to grow up normal,” Mary told a Daily Prophet reporter once, during a rare outing to Diagon Alley. Neil, however, had stayed at home with his nanny. “This much fame isn’t good for a child,” she continued, a sheen of tears shimmering in her eyes. “I don’t want Neil to think about death and murder. He’s just a little boy. Please, please respect our privacy.” _

_ We saw glimpses of Neil throughout the years, though they were few and far between: a flying lesson with a professional coach when he was six, an outing to his family’s ancestral estate when he was ten. Dark-haired and nondescript, Neil seemed to be a shy little boy, by all accounts quite normal and unextraordinary despite his extraordinary defeat of You-Know-Who. On Neil’s eleventh birthday, when he should have received his invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mary made a public, and rather controversial decision, that Neil would be enrolling in a foreign school instead - Durmstrang Institute. It seemed an odd choice, certainly, to enroll Neil in a school known for its dubious reputation and emphasis on Dark Arts. _

_ “Durmstrang is a fine educational institution,” Mr. Malcolm, a close family friend of the Hatfords, commented, when asked about the choice. “Neil prefers to be somewhere where he’s less well-known so he can focus on his studies. Besides, several notable British families send their children there, including the Moriyamas.” _

_ When asked about Durmstrang’s choice not to admit Muggle-born students, Mr. Malcolm chose not to comment. _

_ All this history aside, dear readers, there’s not a single one of us who has forgotten what transpired on this day eight years ago. The day the Boy Who Lived vanished, and the day the Dark Lord returned. Many fine witches and wizards perished on and since that day, the most notable, of course, being Professor David Wymack. Wymack was the only wizard that You-Know-Who is said to have ever feared. _

_ People ask: where did Neil go? Did You-Know-Who kill him too?  _

_ People wonder: Did Neil go to Durmstrang to study, or to learn Dark Arts? Was Neil Josten a Dark wizard all along? (and worst of all) Did Neil help bring  _ him  _ back? _

_ (Note to readers: It turns out Neil never enrolled at Durmstrang Institute, according to former student Kevin Day, who famously transferred from Durmstrang to Hogwarts during his fourth year amidst considerable controversy.) _

_ That only adds to the mystery, of course, and to this day, we don’t have answers to these burning questions. Many want to condemn him, many more want to help him. In these dark times, I think we should leave it as simply as this: _

_ Neil, if you are dead, we hope you can rest in peace far away from the troubles of this world.  _

_ But Neil, if you are alive out there, if you are reading this, we ask you: please, come back. _

_ Stay safe, everyone. Until next time. _

Neil let the newspaper fall back to the table, though he continued to stare at it for several minutes. He hadn’t meant to read it, really hadn’t wanted to in fact, because this was hardly the first time an article had been written about him or his family. It had been years though, since anyone had bothered to delve into his upbringing, and it seemed like quite the coincidence for it to happen now. 

After trying and failing to calm himself down, he shoved back from the table and snatched the newspaper in a tight grip. He found Kevin, Andrew, and Nicky sitting in the main room, and they all quieted when they saw the expression on Neil’s face.

“What is this?” he asked, zeroing in on Kevin. 

Frowning, Kevin stood up and grabbed for the paper. Neil shoved it into his chest instead, forcing Kevin to stumble back a step with a scowl. Andrew’s eyes shifted, watching them, but he didn’t move to interfere.

“I’d really love to know why you’re talking to a reporter about me, or at all,” Neil continued. “Why didn’t you just tell them I was here? It’s been a while since your name was in the headlines.”

Nicky leaned forward, eyeing them both uncomfortably. “Neil, whoa, I don’t think it’s like that.”

Kevin snorted as he skimmed over the article, then tossed it back to Neil. Neil let it flutter to the ground.

“That’s a comment I made years ago,” Kevin said dismissively. “Besides, it’s true, so what does it matter?”

“It just does, okay?” Neil ground his teeth in frustration. “The more he knows about me - I can’t let -” He paused and forced himself to take a deep breath. “If anyone asks you about me again, just say ‘no comment’. Can you handle that?”

“Can you?” Kevin said, crossing his arms. “Why didn’t you enroll at Durmstrang, by the way? If you had, you wouldn’t be so unpracticed right now. I bet any one of us could have bested you as a first-year. Even Jean, and he barely learned anything in that French primary school. He - what?”

Neil forgot how to breathe for a moment. It had to be coincidence. It was a common name after all, especially in France. But the connection to Kevin - to the Moriyamas - that couldn’t be random.

“Jean Moreau?” Neil said faintly, the name sticking in his throat. “Are you talking about Jean Moreau?”

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Andrew flick him an interested look, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Kevin, who’d stopped moving.

“How did you know that?” Kevin asked.

Neil didn’t know how to say it, because revealing anything true about himself still felt like tearing part of his soul out. He glanced helplessly at Andrew, who nudged Nicky and pointed to the door.

“Out,” he said.

Nicky’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

Andrew kept pointing and Nicky made an offended noise as he got to his feet. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it and left without another word.

“How did you know Jean?” Kevin asked again, as soon as Nicky was gone. “You were never at Durmstrang, and I’ve never met you before, so how the hell did you two meet?”

Neil swallowed. His mouth felt as dry as a desert. “I was at Castle Evermore, before.” Every deeply ingrained instinct screamed at Neil to shut up, but something made him keep going. He didn’t know why, but this seemed important. “I spent the summer with Jean and Riko. When… When the Dark Lord came back, I saw Jean die.”

Kevin stared at him. Andrew did too, though his gaze was more assessing and thoughtful than anything.

“That doesn’t…” Kevin shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.  _ I _ was at Evermore back then. With Riko and Jean. It was always just the three of us. You weren’t - you were never there.”

Neil could feel a chill sweep from his toes to the top of his head. “Funny, because that’s the same way I remember it, except  _ you  _ weren’t there, I was.”

“How is that possible?” Kevin pressed angrily, eyebrows pushing together. “How could we both…” He trailed off.

Andrew inserted mildly, “Memory charms are a bitch.”

Neil blinked and looked at Andrew, though Kevin continued staring at Neil like he’d figure out the answer if he just did it long enough. 

“Who could cast a memory charm that powerful?” Neil said. “And it would have to be simultaneous for both of us to remember the same thing, but not each other. And why? Why would it matter if Kevin and I remembered each other?”

Andrew studied him for a moment. “If only we had answers to all these burning questions.”

Neil started. He should’ve guessed others in the house had read the article as well, considering it was sitting on the kitchen table, but for some reason he hadn’t thought Andrew would. Not for the first time, Neil wondered how much of Andrew’s apathy was merely an act.

Kevin lowered himself down into a chair, watching his hands now instead of Neil. “It had to be Wymack,” he said, more to himself than either of them. He shook his head as if negating his own comment. “But why would he leave you there?”

At Neil’s confused look, Andrew explained.

“A month before it happened, Coach swooped in and rescued Kevin like the damsel in distress that he is.” Kevin shot him a dark look, but Andrew kept going. “He never cared to explain what he meant, but he did say he wasn’t entirely successful. Looks like you’re the secret to that riddle, Neil.”

Neil’s stomach swooped at the implication. If Wymack had gotten Kevin out of there, had time to cast a memory charm so intricate and powerful that nobody remembered the two of them had ever met, then that meant something else as well. It was almost too awful to say, but he did it anyway.

“He left me there,” he said flatly.

Andrew cocked his head to the side in consideration while Kevin looked pained. He shook his head. “There’s no way.”

“Denial doesn’t suit you, Kevin,” Andrew said, but he was looking at Neil.

Kevin’s eyebrows shot up. “If he left Neil behind, there had to be a good reason. You know that.”

Neil’s laugh came out harsh and strained. “You have no idea,” he said. “You have no idea what this means. This means -”

Before he could finish and condemn himself for good, he whirled around on his heel and bolted up the stairs. He needed his coat, its charmed pockets holding every material possession he owned, and then he would be good. He would be ready to run.

He passed a bemused looking Dan on the landing, whose expression shifted to concern when she saw his face.

“Neil, are you alright?” she asked.

He didn’t stop, not until he’d reached his room and slammed the door shut behind him. He allowed himself five seconds to breathe before he snatched up his coat and wand. He’d rather not take anything of theirs, but without it he wouldn’t get far at all.

He passed Dan and Matt on the way out. Both of them called after him, alarm clear in their voices, but Neil ignored them. It hurt, because in the few weeks he’d been here, he’d become accustomed to their presence, to all of them really, in a way he’d never allowed himself before. It was too dangerous, forming attachments. It meant you had something to lose, but more importantly, it meant they could hurt you. It didn’t matter what their individual intentions were, in the end. What mattered was they belonged to Wymack. 

Neil had felt the sting of betrayal many times in his life, but it had never hurt quite like this.

He made it as far as the beach, intending to keep walking until he got outside the wards, before he sensed someone’s presence behind him. He turned and threw up a shield just in time to deflect Andrew’s spell. It rebounded harmlessly into the nearby sand with a soft whoosh.

“What the hell?” Neil cursed when Andrew shot another one at him. “Cut it out!”

Andrew shot two more spells at him, both of which Neil deflected with ease. He knew Andrew wasn’t really trying to hurt him, but he was pissed off enough to fire one back. Andrew threw it aside with more force than necessary. Before he could retaliate, Neil turned his back on him and started walking again. 

Andrew appeared in front of him with a soft pop and Neil scowled. He sidestepped and started off again, only for Andrew to repeat the trick, making him rock to a halt.

“What?” Neil snapped. “Now you want to stop me? Isn’t this what you’ve been expecting me to do this whole time?”

Andrew’s blank expression didn’t twitch, so Neil shoved him with both hands. Or he tried to; Andrew Disapparated so quickly that Neil ended up overbalancing and falling to his hands and knees with a curse. 

“Tell me why,” Andrew said, standing a few feet away in a new spot. “Then you can decide whether or not to go.”

Neil stared at him incredulously. “Does it look like I’m undecided?” He pushed to his feet, realizing his hands were trembling and shoving them into his pockets. “Kevin already said it. Go ask him.”

“You think Coach abandoned you on purpose,” Andrew stated succinctly. “Except you don’t know that’s true, so you’re going to scurry off before you can find out for sure. Is truth something you’re naturally allergic to, or is this a learned behavior?”

“I can’t take that chance,” Neil said, shaking his head. “Neither should you.” He started to turn away, but found himself pausing at Andrew’s next words.

“How much of that article was bullshit?"

Absurdly, Neil felt like laughing again. He looked out at the water as he answered, “about 90%.”

After a few seconds, Andrew asked, “okay, easier question: which part of it was true?”

Neil returned his gaze to Andrew. “No one’s ever questioned my story before. Why would you?”

“Thinking you know something and actually knowing it are two different things,” Andrew replied. After a moment of hesitation, he added, “I gave someone a truth once, and they chose not to believe me. You’re not the only one who knows what it is to live a lie.”

Neil wanted to ask what he meant, but he was already too invested in this group of strangers who, for a brief moment, felt like they could be something more. He shook his head firmly to dislodge the notion.

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“And here I thought Kevin was the spineless one,” Andrew challenged. “Talking is not that hard.”

“Stop,” Neil said, clenching his fists. 

“What could be so awful that he’d run eight years to hide it?” Andrew continued, tapping a thoughtful finger on his jaw. “Maybe he’s not Neil Josten at all. Maybe he really is a Dark wizard, and this is one elaborate ploy to infiltrate and take us down once and for all.”

“Andrew,” Neil warned. Because Andrew was too close, and the truth burned hotly on his tongue, just waiting to come out.

“Maybe he helped bring him back to life, like they said.” Andrew took a step closer and poked a finger at Neil’s chest. “Am I hot or cold, Neil?”

“He’s my father!”

For a long moment, the only sounds were the crashing waves and an occasional seagull, but Neil could barely hear those over the pounding of his heart. He waited for Andrew to look away, for disgust to creep into his eyes, for him to back up a step in fear. Only Andrew did none of those things. He merely waited, studying Neil, and then hummed softly as he pocketed his wand and pulled out a pack of cigarettes instead.

“Who else knows?” he asked, as he shielded his lighter from the wind. He didn’t say anything when Neil plucked the cigarette from his lips and cradled it between his palms, inhaling the smoke as it curled upward. Andrew shook out a second one and lit it.

Once he felt capable of speech again, Neil shrugged. “His inner circle, I think. But not even all of them. I was a carefully kept secret.”

“Why?”

Neil shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

To his surprise, Andrew accepted that with a slight nod. “Yet, you say. That implies you’re staying.” He narrowed his eyes consideringly. “You think Wymack knew who you were and left you there because of it.”

Neil looked away. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Whatever Andrew might’ve said in response was quickly forgotten by the arrival of a brilliant light that whooshed to a stop and took the form of an eagle.

“Under attack!” the Patronus said in Dan’s voice. “They found us! Go now! Regroup at the - ”

It vanished and a moment later, it started to rain.


	7. Chapter 7

Andrew spared Neil a single glance before vanishing with a pop, reappearing at the top of the stairs and dashing out of view. Neil made to bolt after him on instinct, but he jerked to a sudden halt. For a breathless moment, he could feel his mother’s brutal grip on his hair, yanking him furiously  _ away  _ from danger, not into it. She would’ve beaten him senseless for even considering going back for the others - hell, she would’ve done that already, considering how long he’d stayed. Seconds ticked by. It felt like being torn in half. He’d been just about to run. It was time to go. He  _ had  _ to run.

Neil bolted up the stairs after Andrew.

Before reaching the top, he layered himself in half a dozen charms and spells - disillusionment, true aim, triplicate. Some of them weren’t technically legal, and definitely weren’t not taught in the Hogwarts curricula. Neil’s magical education hadn’t exactly been normal, however. Despite Kevin’s rude comments, Neil had likely learned more about dark magic by age 5 than most people did in their entire lifetimes. 

As he cleared the top landing, a rush of heat washed over him, causing Neil to throw up his forearm and stumble back a step. Eyes streaming, he lowered his arm and his stomach lurched. The cottage was ablaze.

Neil didn’t see any of the others. He did see roughly a dozen witches and wizards surrounding the periphery, wands raised in tandem as they maintained the massive flames. They didn’t wear the tell-tale robes and masks of Death Eaters, but rather the nondescript uniforms of Ministry Aurors. 

Neil muttered a curse and threw it at the witch nearest to him. She immediately screamed, dropping her wand as her hands flew to her boil-covered face. Normally, that curse did little more than raise some uncomfortable, and rather unsightly pustules. With Neil’s not-so-legal adjustments that tripled the potency of anything he cast, it covered her skin so thoroughly that not even her eyes remained visible. 

Before her wand dropped, the curse was able to spread to three other Aurors before their tandem spell dissolved in a shower of sparks. The cottage remained burning, of course. Neil dodged a spell, then deflected another, leaping forward toward the steps. The Aurors couldn’t see him clearly thanks to the Disillusionment charm, but they fired wildly in his general direction just the same. Neil had nearly made it up the stairs when a spell collided with his shield, hard enough to knock him off his feet. He pitched forward with a rough yelp, chin catching the landing with a crack. Dazed, Neil rolled to his back, ready to keep fighting, but several spells shot out at the Aurors from behind him and a moment later, someone grabbed his arms and hauled him backward. 

Neil immediately twisted, freeing himself from the person’s grip, only to find Matt standing over him with a soot-stained face and a haggard expression. Behind him, Renee and Abby stood side by side, holding a shield against their attackers. The strain on both their faces said it wouldn’t hold for long. 

“Where are the others?” Neil demanded, scrambling to his feet and ignoring the bolt of pain that shot from his jaw to the top of his skull.

“Still inside,” Matt said grimly. He seemed dazed. “I don’t think we can - ”

Neil glanced into the cottage, finding it filled with billowing smoke. It seemed the majority of the flames had only eaten away the outside of the house so far. 

“Renee, Abby, drop your shield when I say so,” Neil said, returning his attention to the Aurors. 

Abby protested, “Neil, what - ”

“Just do it!” Neil squeezed his wand tight and raised it. “Now!”

The moment their shield dropped, Neil swept his arm in a massive arc and directed every ounce of heat and smoke from inside the cottage out into the yard. It swept outward like a tornado, swirling around the unsuspecting Aurors, choking and blinding them momentarily.

Renee caught on quickly, re-erecting a shield over the Aurors, rather than their own group, forcing the smoke into a massive bubble over their heads.

“I don’t know how long we can hold it,” Renee said calmly, despite the sweat dripping down her face. “Please hurry.”

Neil darted inside, only realizing Matt had followed him after he jerked to a halt, causing Matt to bump into him. Stalking toward them from the living room were Kevin and Andrew, Nicky’s limp form floating along behind. Kevin had a streak of blood smeared down his face and Andrew looked furious. Neil flicked a quick glance behind them, seeing the unmoving bodies of two Aurors sprawled across the floor. He tore his eyes away, focusing on Andrew instead.

“Is he alive?” Neil asked, nodding at Nicky.

An all-encompassing darkness filled Andrew’s eyes, his normally placid expression so full of hate and rage that it almost felt like looking at another person. It was there and gone in an instant. For a reason he couldn’t quite name, Neil almost regretted its absence as Andrew’s expression resolved to its usual unaffected state.

“Yes,” Andrew said shortly. He jerked his head toward the door. “He won’t be for long if we don’t get out of here.”

“What are you waiting for?” Neil said. Andrew didn’t look amused to have his own words tossed back in his face, but Neil turned away and headed back toward the women before he could say anything.

Renee and Abby had held the bubble shield in their absence. One look at them told Neil they wouldn’t last much longer however. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Everyone join together,” Kevin ordered. “I can take us -”

“No!” Renee interrupted in a strained voice. She kept her attention focused on the yard as she addressed them. “They have Dan. We need somewhere new.”

Matt made a pained noise, but it was apparent he’d already known. His dazed state suddenly made more sense.

Kevin’s eyebrows drew together sharply. “What? How did she let that happen? Nevermind, we don’t have anywhere set up. We can’t just Apparate to a random spot and hope for the best. That’s suicide.”

“So is staying here,” Abby cut in. “We need to go before they break through. I can -”

“Any safehouse that you know, Dan would know too,” Kevin argued. “Anywhere any of us know is a liability now. They’ll get it out of her. You know they will.”

Matt made another wounded noise.

“I can’t hold it much longer,” Renee gasped, wand-arm shaking. “Andrew.”

Andrew immediately bolstered her spell with his own, but it was still only a temporary solution. Sooner or later, he’d run out of strength too.

“I have somewhere,” Neil said. It felt like someone had taken temporary control of his mouth as he continued. “A safehouse. I’m the secret-keeper.” 

He imagined his mother beating her fists bloody in whatever ghostly realm she resided in.

“You’re the only one, right?” Kevin asked quickly.

Neil shot him a shrewd look. “Obviously.”

“Anytime now,” Andrew ground out. Inside the shield, the trapped Aurors fought tirelessly - they likely had mere minutes - if that - until they broke through. “Or are we having tea before we go?”

Once everyone was connected in some form or another, Neil shoved aside the warning bells in his brain and said, “It’s 12 Grimmauld Place, London.”

Kevin Apparated the lot of them directly onto the front step of Neil’s ancestral home - the real one, not the fake one they’d referenced in the Daily Prophet. Immediately, alarms shrieked and portraits inside the house started to shout and yammer angrily. Neil worked as quickly as he could to strip the locking spells layered over the entrance, and then to silence the deafening alarms. The portraits took a little longer, and had to be done manually.

“Mudbloods, in my house!” raged great-aunt Sally.

“Filthy, vile creatures! Get them away! Get them out!” moaned five-times great-grandfather Wilson.

“I can’t even enjoy my  _ death  _ without being surrounded by your stinking half-bloods and Muggle-lovers!” complained cousin Richard. “It was bad enough while I was  _ alive _ !”

As soon as Neil started going room to room, yanking drawstring curtains over each outraged portrait, Renee joined in as well. It took them the better part of ten minutes, but finally, the house was quiet.

“That was… different,” Renee said, coming to a halt beside Neil and resting her hands on her hips. “Are they always so pleasant to newcomers?”

Neil snorted. “That was pleasant. For them.”

“Are they permanently spelled to the walls?” she asked curiously, eyeing the covered portraits.

“I don’t know,” Neil said. For the first time, he allowed himself to take a breath and glance around the room they stood in. At some point, he imagined it had been a library, but it was so covered in dust and cobwebs that he could barely make out what resided beneath. “I haven’t been here since I was a child.”

He felt Renee’s eyes on him and decided to ignore it, opting instead to wander back through the house in search of the others. He found them in the drawing room. Nicky was stretched out on the couch with Abby kneeling over him, speaking quietly, and Matt sat on a chair in the corner, head cradled in his hands. Andrew leaned silently against the wall with Kevin beside him, his eyes tracking Neil as he walked in. Neil met his gaze briefly before looking around the room, finding it in the same state of disrepair as the rest of the house.

“We need to talk about Dan,” Kevin said.

“Kevin,” Abby warned, shooting a glance at Matt, who still hadn’t looked up. “Not now.”

“Yes,  _ now _ ,” Kevin insisted. “We should assume they now know everything about us - or soon will. No one can withstand their interrogation techniques for long. We know that. We - ”

He cut off suddenly. Neil realized with a start that Andrew had his wand pressed to Kevin’s throat. Despite his white-knuckled grip on it, he looked perfectly calm.

“Andrew,” Kevin tried. He snapped his mouth shut angrily when Andrew tapped the wand against his windpipe. 

“No one wants to hear you talk right now,” Andrew said. Without waiting for a response, he jerked his head at Neil and left the room.

Somewhere between curious and alarmed, Neil followed him. At first, he thought he’d misunderstood Andrew’s gesture, as all Andrew did was trail silently through the halls, ghosting his fingertips over long-forgotten surfaces and periodically stopping to examine an old book or piece of furniture. Neil might as well have been a ghost himself, for all the attention Andrew paid him.

Eventually, they ended up in the kitchen. The long wooden table still had a full meal setting on it, though the food had since long rotted away and spiders seemed to have taken up permanent residence amongst the ruins.

Andrew still hadn’t acknowledged his presence and stood with his back to Neil. Starting to feel annoyed, Neil crossed his arms.

“Andrew, what - ”

Before he could finish, Andrew whirled around and had him pinned against the wall in the space of a second. Despite being shorter than him, Andrew moved like a battering ram and Neil had no doubt he could do serious damage if he wanted to. Only vaguely did Neil realize that Andrew hadn’t drawn his wand.

“Two seconds ago you were accusing Coach of knowingly abandoning you to your father -”

Neil flinched.

“ - and then you’re entrusting a Fidelius-charmed location to a group aligned with him.”

Neither of those things were questions, so Neil gazed back in irritated silence.

“Either you’re playing me,” Andrew said, “or your survival instinct is more negligible than I thought. Which is it?”

Neil shoved him off. Andrew let himself be shoved, but only by a couple steps as he continued to stare at Neil.

“This place’s location is hardly the worst secret I’ve given up today,” Neil said. “Why stop there?”

“Have you ever thought, ‘maybe I should quit while I’m ahead’?

Neil scoffed. “In what lifetime have I ever been ahead? Look, this house belonged to the Hatfords. After my uncle died and my mother and I were taken, they abandoned it because my mother became the Secret-Keeper. After she died, that became me. I already trusted you once today, so I’m trusting you with this too. Is that alright, or do you want to keep complaining about everything I do?”

That shut Andrew up for a moment. 

“You’ve been here before?” he asked, eventually, leaning back on his heels.

“Just once,” Neil said. “When I was eleven. We never came back. I don’t really know why.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly around the filthy space. “Really? I can’t imagine.”

Neil gazed back at him. “Is that it then? Daily interrogation complete?”

A muscle in Andrew’s jaw ticked as he considered that. “Truth for a truth, then. For every question you answer, you get to ask me one in return. Starting now.”

“I’ve already answered two questions today. Does that mean I get to ask two now?”

“Is that your question?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” He thought for a second, considering and discarding a litany of questions he had about Wymack, about the others. Finally, he settled on, “How did your family react when they found out you were a wizard?”

Andrew huffed - not quite a laugh, but a clear sound of surprise. “Right for the jugular, Neil. Except you’re asking a trick question, because I have no family.”

“Nicky’s your cousin,” Neil pointed out wryly. “In most circles, that qualifies as family.”

“At that point in my life, I didn’t know he existed, so no. Try again.”

Neil frowned in confusion. Apparently taking pity on him, Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I’m a foster kid, Neil. Catch up. When my so-called ‘family’,” Andrew made air-quotes, “found my Hogwarts letter, they kicked me out. By the time I learned about Aaron and Nicky, I was with a new fake family, and they thought I was very special indeed.”

“I’m taking my other turn,” Neil said. “Who’s Aaron, and why isn’t he here? I’ve heard Nicky and Kevin mention him half a dozen times without context.”

Andrew paused before answering. “Biologically, he’s my twin. And as far as I know, he’s in Azkaban.”

Shock stole whatever words Neil might have said right out of his mouth. He didn’t know which part of Andrew’s statement was more shocking, however - that he had a twin brother, or that he was prisoner in the worst wizarding prison in all of Britain. 

“We caused a bit of a scuffle at the Ministry a few months ago,” Andrew explained, apparently unimpressed with Neil’s lack of response. He mimed an explosion. “It went well, until it didn’t. Not all of us made it back.”

“That’s why you’re so low on safe-houses,” Neil guessed.

What Neil left unsaid, was that whomever they’d taken would’ve been subjected to interrogation at the best, and torture at worst. Whatever secrets they’d held would have been torn forcefully from their heads within hours or days of their capture. Kevin had tried saying that aloud just a few minutes ago. Andrew’s reaction made more sense now, given that he’d lost his own brother to the same fate.

“How can you be sure he’s alive?”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly and just a hint of his earlier, bone-deep rage peeked through. It wasn’t directed at Neil though, and either way, it didn’t scare him, so he simply gazed back in silence while he waited for Andrew to respond. 

“We had an inside source,” Andrew said, at length. “But they haven’t contacted us for some time.”

Which, more than likely, meant they were dead. Andrew obviously knew that, so Neil didn’t feel the need to comment.

Exhaling softly, he tore his gaze away and looked around the kitchen once more. 

“This place might actually be liveable if we clean it up,” Neil said. Doubtful, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say at the moment.

Without a word, Andrew stepped further into the room and got to work spelling the dishes to wash, the duster to wipe, and the hard-bristle brooms to sweep. It was so unexpected, and so oddly domestic, that it took Neil a moment to follow suit. 

“Are you planning to stare things into existence?” Andrew asked without turning around.

Despite everything that had happened that day, Neil felt an odd urge to smile. Rolling up his sleeves, he pulled out his wand and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the very best of intentions to update this weekly, but I think I'm coming to terms with an every-other week schedule, at least for the time being.
> 
> Thank you for continuing to read! :)


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